fingers. “Okay, okay. So what’s the holdup?”
I open my mouth, but what can I say? That I’m too shy to take my dress off? That I don’t want him to see me in my swimsuit, when half the people in our town practically live in their swimsuits this time of year?
“I just…” I shake my head again. “Nothing. Whatever.” I set down the mask and turn away from him, because that’s as close to seeking privacy as I can get out here on the open beach. I suck in a deep breath and before I can talk myself out of it, before I can make it any weirder than it already is, I pull my dress up over my head and drape it over the rock beside our towels. I grab the snorkel gear and pass by Quint without meeting his gaze.
I have no idea if he bothers to look at me. To look look.
And I don’t want to know.
I’ve never gotten into the water so quickly.
The sand shifts under my bare feet. The waves push at my legs and hips, and soon the foam is swirling around my waist.
“Keep the tube out of the water,” says Quint, and I jump. I didn’t realize he was so close to me, and now his hand is beneath mine, lifting the gear away from the gentle waves. “Nothing like a mouth full of seawater to ruin the experience.”
He smiles, his eyes catching the light that’s reflected off the water, and they are not boring, nondescript, basic brown eyes at all. They are rich and captivating.
My mouth dries.
Goodness gracious, what is happening to me? Why is this starting to feel like … like …
Like the start of a crush.
Ha! No! Absolutely not. A storm of silent laughter surges through my thoughts. That is absurd.
This is Quint Erickson. He is so not my type. He is the polar opposite of my type.
Okay, I’m not entirely sure what my type is, but I do know it is not him.
“Ready?” Quint pulls on his goggles, and I’m grateful that my internal hysteria is brought to a screeching halt. I must look confused, because he takes my goggles away from me and adjusts the mouth tube attachment. “Like this,” he says, pulling the strap on over my head, stretching the band so that it fits under my ponytail. I hold my breath until his hands fall away and I’m left to adjust the goggles so they fit snug, forming a seal around my eyes. “Then this part goes in your mouth—not over it, but inside your lips, okay? Then all you need to do is keep this end out of the water. And that’s it.” He grins again, before sliding the mouthpiece between his lips, making them puff out. Making him look ridiculous.
He tips forward and pushes off into the water, floating at the surface, the tube puncturing the air beside his ear.
“Get it together, Prudence,” I whisper, before stuffing the piece into my mouth. It feels awkward, the plastic pushing uncomfortably against my gums.
Okay. I just have to get this over with and move on with my day. Quint will be satisfied, he won’t have to yell at me about being “a team” anymore, and we can get started on the real work.
I walk out until the waves are up to my chest before leaning over and putting my face in the water.
It takes some mental coaching to persuade my body to inhale, and I keep checking that the other end of the tube is still out of the water. But after the first few breaths, it gets easier, despite every instinct reminding me that breathing underwater is not natural.
I peer into the depths.
I see … me.
My legs, looking ghastly pale and tinged sea-foam green.
My swimsuit—solid black.
My bright-pink-polished toes being covered up with drifts of sand.
I turn in a circle, noticing a handful of shells scattered across the seabed.
It’s … pretty. Serene. I like how the light filtering through the water casts swirls around the—
Oh holy shish kebab!
I spit out my mouth piece and scream, back-paddling my arms. My head pops out of the water.
“Quint!”
He’s at least thirty feet away. His head snaps up and he tugs out his mouthpiece. “Yeah?”
“Come here! Fast!”
He doesn’t ask questions, just starts swimming toward me with perfect front-crawl arm strokes, as opposed to the awkward doggy paddle I consider to be my specialty.
“Look, look, look!” I say, latching on to his arm and pointing. Still wearing the goggles, he ducks